Young Writers Society

Selfishly I knew she could have the information I needed, aninformation that could be a bridge for me between death and life.

While thinking I finished bandaging her, afterwards making sure I did the best I could for her.

I crouched and took off a PDA out of her vest just to crush it to leave no tracks behind.

while I was looking in her eyes,

Confident in my abilities I pat her head, smiling like if I found a friend.

I couldn’t help but to smile, thinking to myself that maybe, maybe I found a good reason to struggle for another day of my stressful life.

Though back then I didn't have even a slightest idea of how complex would my struggle become.

A conflict of mortality gained on strength, becoming a personal war I later named 'Bestial conflict' as only a beast could get so far, nothing else.

Kyousuke wrote:Chapter 1 - Conflict

“Hang in there, you’ve still got a purpose to serve.” I personally think "there" sounds better than "here". Those words subconsciously escaped my selfish lips as I was firmly bandaging one woman’s bullet wounds. Her Spec Ops clothes were getting soaked in blood so quick I was afraid I’d that I wouldn't not stop her bleeding in time. I think by using the phrase instead of "I'd" allows the reader to dwell on the situation for longer and feel the effect of your writing more. Leaning against a dirty wall of a room located in one of many buildings, she looked like her soul was stuck between real world and what comes after. Her dark eyes were distant, her expression tearful. I like that comparison and image.

She didn’t even twitch after hearing my words, one would think she had already bled out, though that still wasn’t the case I still knew that wasn't true. (I suggest this because 'case' is too formal and because you're writing in first person, using words like 'knew' or 'think' help create a more secure atmosphere) Those distant eyes still sparkled faintly with life, her breathing – even shallow – was still present. All I could think of was that she was deep in her thoughts, collecting shattered memories of past. I was a witness to what happened. , so I had slight idea of what she might have thought. (If you get rid of that line you keep more of the feeling that your character is there. You don't need to explain how or why your character thinks they know what they're thinking it just disrupts the fluency in my opinion.)

I watched her group for hours from distance, aware of their origin and possible goal. A sunny day of late summer was a last day for her group of four people after entering the building, where three of them realized their limits with the last exhale. I knew as their Spec Ops clothes were easy to notice among many bodies along the way to the room. Your story has jumped in this paragraph and I've completely lost where your character has gone. Is he one the way to the room? Or is he still attending to the woman bleeding out? Are the Spec-Ops team now dead? I'm really confused and I think you need to fix the clarity somehow.

Maybe it was for the better that they'd died, because otherwise I could be the cause of their death, but I was seriously desperate to save that woman. Careful with tenses. Selfishly I knew she could have information I needed, an information that could be a bridge for me between death and life. After all, everything I did was just for me as I had nobody else than myself to care for.

“Life, eh,” I sighed, reminding myself my own life - a life of lab rat on run. Dialogue followed by periods should end the sentence, where as if you use "I said" or in this case, "I sighed", you need to be using a comma. Finding out truth was a painful turning point, which eventually led me all the way to being a highly ‘wanted criminal’ as my sins were of an unusual kind. My body carried human kind’s achievement many thought was impossible, so it made sense that when I escaped grasp and control of people, who ordered expensive lab experiment, they were desperate to find me, to get their result back. Careful over clarity and sentence length because it's growing mildly confusing again. You need to stop jumping from one place to another. If your character is still attending to the wounded woman, why talk about morality, history and all this? Shouldn't it be discovered as we go along? Don't spill it all out in the first chapter because it's putting your story's fluency at risk.

While thinking I finished bandaging her, afterwards making sure I did the best I could for her. Aware of her blood loss I took a small box out of a pocket of my baggy shorts to open it and put a few sugar dices in her mouth. Even though it was a small amount, it was still a boost for her blood regeneration.

Behind strokes of her dark brown hair I saw her eyes looking straight at me, looking as if she was expecting death to come from my hands.
“Drop that look, it won’t change a thing. There’s no way I’d kill you after all the effort. Besides, officially you’re already dead.”

I saw her try to speak, but not even one word got through her twitching lips. She lost a lot of blood, pain made her numb.
“You see, by now your status should be already would already be KIA. (Just a bit clearer and less wooden) You were sent here for something and I’m sure they never truly expected you or your team to come back. All they really needed was information, isn’t that right?”

Her eyes dropped, signing me that I hit the spot. I crouched and took off a PDA out of her vest just to crush it to leave no tracks behind. I knew I had to carry her somewhere safe, but I was aware that there were still a lot of people around greedy for our lives. I felt pity rise deep inside of me while I was looking in her eyes, imagining a poor soul thrown away by a government, which saw soldiers like pawns.

Confident in my abilities I pat her head, smiling like as if I found a friend. Her bleeding stopped, making me feel even happier. I like the idea of the character here, makes them see mildly psychotic.
“Not everybody gets a second chance at life, savor it.”

I stood up and headed through all the garbage to the door, holding a silver Colt 1991 in my hand. Killing was my specialty, an art; I was the best at after being a lab experiment for years. Careful of missing punctuation, concentrate on keeping a confident flow. I couldn’t help but to smile, thinking to myself that maybe, just maybe I found a good reason to struggle for another day of my stressful life.

Though back then I didn't have even have the a slightest idea of how complex would my struggle become. A conflict of mortality gained on strength, becoming a personal war I later named 'Bestial conflict' as only a beast could get so far, nothing else.

after all the effort.